


Sitting in a Tree

by Fushigi Kismet (tokyofish), tokyofish



Series: Other Side of Ordinary [4]
Category: Bleach
Genre: AU, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-10-11
Updated: 2005-10-11
Packaged: 2018-02-10 06:02:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2013801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tokyofish/pseuds/Fushigi%20Kismet, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tokyofish/pseuds/tokyofish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ichigo falls out of a tree while visiting from college. Rukia wages war against a firefly and finds a baby. This is about as ordinary as it gets in the Kurosaki household.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sitting in a Tree

**Author's Note:**

> Bleach is © Kubo Tite, Viz Media, Studio Pierrot, Shueisha, etc. This is a nonprofit fanwork.
> 
> Takes place in alternate storyline that branches off from canon post-Chapter 181. Rukia is Ichigo's live-in girlfriend, Kon is now living with Urahara, Orihime recently *cough* changed her last name to Ishida, and this story takes place near the end of Ichigo's freshman year of college.
> 
> Disclaimer: The poem is by Izumi Shikibu. Translator for this version unknown. If anyone knows, please contact me?

-Sitting in a Tree-

The sun was warm, she thought, swinging her legs. The breeze was nice. And, oh, that sound? Was Ichigo swearing.

He hauled himself up over the top of the branch and edged his way along it until he was standing next to her, his right hand flat against the trunk of the tree for balance.

"I come home for the first time in a MONTH," he muttered, "and where are you? Sitting in a tree!"

"Hmmph," she said, crossing her arms. "Have you been gone a month? I had not noticed."

"What," he said, peering around her at her face, "are you _mad_ at me?!"

"That is merely your misconception."

"No," he said slowly, "you're really mad. But what the hell do you have to be mad ABOUT?"

"Absolutely nothing."

He rolled his eyes, crouched down next to her and tried to think. "Is it _because_ I haven't been home for a month? I told you exams are coming up."

No response.

"Uh, is it because I didn't call? It's been hard to find time and there's always a long-ass line for the phone so I usually just go to bed."

He thought maybe her eyelid had twitched but he wasn't sure.

"Okay, geez, I'm sorry! I'll make sure to call so you won't miss me."

She seemed to cross her arms a little tighter. "I did _not miss_ you!"

"Well, I missed you," he said sulkily. He was tired, he had wanted to see her, and a cold shoulder was the last thing he had been looking forward to on his arrival home.

Rukia glanced at him, pursed her lips, said, "Oh fine!," leaned over, and kissed him.

When they pulled away, Ichigo was sadly incautious in his word choice as he smirked and said, "About time."

"Oh?" she said, lifting an eyebrow and Ichigo knew he'd really put his foot in it this time. He knew it even more when she shoved him.

For him it was the suddenness of the movement after he had let his guard down that caused him to be unprepared. For her, she had simply never considered that the result of her action would be anything more than him shoving her back.

To both their surprise - and it showed on their faces - he fell.

 

"Are you dead?" she called down through the branches and the small shower of leaves that resulted from his speedy and unexpected descent.

"An ordinary person," he said, grimacing and looking up at where she was peering over the edge of the branch at him, "would ask, "Are you all right?""

"Well, I am _not_ an ordinary person," she said loftily. "Besides, it would be truly pathetic if you were to die from a fall of ten feet – so I wanted to get that query out of the way first."

"So you're checking to see if I'm truly pathetic?"

"Maybe."

"I'll have you know," he began, getting to his feet and dusting himself off, "that-OW!"

"What?" Rukia immediately jumped down to land as lightly as a cat next to him.

He might have felt gratified by the note of concern in her voice and her worried expression were he not sprawled on his back on the ground. Again. "I . . ." and he felt stupid even saying it, "I think I might have sprained something."

 

"Well," Isshin clucked, "well, well, well."

"Well _what_?!" Ichigo snapped, talking with some difficulty around the thermometer in his mouth. Why the hell did he need to have his temperature taken for a sprain?! Honestly, there were _limits_ to what he could put up with in a day and his father routinely insisting on exceeding ALL OF THEM.

"Well," his father said expansively, taking out the thermometer and giving it a cursory glance, "you're perfectly all right. Almost."

"Almost?" Ichigo repeated. "What the hell do you mean, almost?!"

"It's just a mild fracture," his father said unconcernedly, shaking the thermometer and walking over to his desk.

"WHAT?!" He shot Rukia a disbelieving look.

She refused to meet his eyes. "It is not _my_ fault that you possess a deficient sense of balance." But she sounded a little guilty as she said it.

"Now, now," his father said, making soothing gestures as though Ichigo were some wild hissing cat, "no need to take it out on the blushing-bride-to-be! Such a lovely flower as my future daughter-in-law could never be faulted for my idiot son's inability to take care of himself!"

Rukia sparkled and Ichigo slapped a hand to his forehead. "How the hell are you sure it's a fracture?!" he demanded instead. "You didn't even take any freaking x-rays!"

Isshin hmmed for a moment then said, "Tell me if this hurts" and pressed down on the rapidly purpling foot with the point of his elbow. Ichigo contorted over it in pain, smacking his hand repeatedly against the examination bed. "I give, I give! OW DAMMIT, I GIVE!"

"There, see?" said his father cheerfully as he straightened. "A sprain doesn't hurt the same way."

"If it wasn't broken before IT SURE AS HELL IS BROKEN NOW, OLD MAN!"

His father ignored him. "Daddy'll wrap it up for now and we'll send you in for proper x-rays tomorrow. My friend's on duty in the afternoon so we can probably get him to take them for us out of the generosity of his heart from our long years of HEARTFELT FRIENDSHIP."

"You mean you're going to try to bum free x-rays off of him? Isn't that a misuse of hospital resources?"

"We can simply FORGO the x-rays if you like and trust in my INNATE SKILL TO SEE YOU THROUGH!"

"Never mind."

"If my years of experience are anything to go by, it shouldn't take longer to heal than, say," he paused, tapping his chin and Ichigo could almost see the gears in his head turning at about the same rate the icecaps melted DURING the Ice Age as he calculated, "four or five weeks."

"FOUR," and Ichigo's voice was a textbook example of perfectly controlled ire, "OR FIVE _WEEKS_?!"

 

-First Comes-

"It's not so bad."

"Like HELL it's not!" Anyone could see that Ichigo was in a foul mood, Rukia just didn't see the point in catering to it. Was it not enough that she had put up with his grumbling all afternoon and through dinner?

She spread out the heavy blankets on the closet shelf. "I will acquire some hot spring water from Urahara tomorrow to bathe your foot in and aid in the healing process."

"Oh, no you won't!" The scenarios running through his head were not pleasant to say the very least. "I can only imagine what he'd charge."

"It will be extremely disagreeable if your father's prognosis proves wrong," she said reasonably. "A nice bath will fix you right up. I'll even wash your back."

"No!" He shuddered mentally, flooded with memories of the last time she had "offered" to wash his back. It had taken forever to grow that skin back. Noticing her frown, he hastily redirected the flow of the conversation. "We'll manage," he grumbled stubbornly. "Urahara is a _last resort_!"

"You just don't want him to laugh at you. Speaking of laughable matters, are you sure your father bandaged that correctly?"

Her skeptical tone was met with his correspondingly skeptical look at the foot that was now twice its normal size. "Sure doesn't look like it, does it? Especially for a "mild fracture."" He moved it experimentally. "Hurts less now, though."

"Perhaps it is more serious than he let on and he was merely sparing your feelings! OH, ICHIGO-"

"Stop being dramatic and go to bed."

"Hmph! See if I am concerned with your well-being tomorrow!" She stalked to the light switch and flipped it off as Ichigo laid down on the bed.

Typically when he came home for the weekend these days he slept on the couch downstairs, but Rukia had insisted that a flat surface would be better for his foot and had given up the bed. Ichigo had almost tried to convince her to let him sleep in an extra bed in the infirmary, but it smelled funny in there and he really didn't relish the prospect of dealing with his father's early morning greeting. (That was one of the perks of having Rukia around – his father was less apt to burst in on them in the mornings. Something about a man not interfering with the delicate morning bloom of love. Whatever. Ichigo thought it had more to do with Rukia's pinpoint kicks to the groin. They'd gotten especially effective after she'd taken to occasionally wearing high heels.) Rukia's room had ostensibly been in the infirmary before he'd gone off to college, but after two nights she hadn't been able to stand it anymore and had ensconced herself right back into his closet. That the shelf in the closet was really more than adequate for her needs had been her argument both then and now. Besides, she had added as an afterthought, it would be better for him if she was nearby in case he needed anything.

Isshin had cooed something about a personal nurse and Ichigo had punched him for his trouble, but after hobbling around all day he privately thought it might not be _such_ a bad idea.

Now, he was having second thoughts. Who in the world had to put up with such a disagreeable nurse?

Oh well, he thought, shutting his eyes, at least the freaking day was over and nothing else could happen.

The world was determined to prove him wrong as he was startled (painfully) bolt upright an instant later, by Rukia violently sliding the closet door open and leaping out.

"What is it?! A Hollow?!"

"Getitoff!" she squeaked, brushing at her face and diving at the bed.

"Eh?" He peered around her at whatever it was. Conjuring up a Hollow in his closet was too much of a stretch for even his imagination.

A small winking light moved into view.

"Is THAT what you're screaming about?!" Ichigo said, looking at Rukia who was now sitting on his bed and breathing hard. "It's just a _firefly_. Probably flew in through the window. Don't you have them in Soul Society and Rukongai?"

"Yes," Rukia said, "but NOT ON MY FACE."

"I bet you're scared of ladybugs too," he teased her, lying back down, "and cicadas."

"I am not!" she said, pulling his pillow out from under his head, which dropped with a thud against the mattress, and whacking him in the face with it. "Make it go outside!"

"I'll do it in the morning," he said, pushing aside the pillow and yawning as he cushioned his head on his arm. "It's late, my foot hurts, and I don't feel like crawling around in the closet and bumping it against something."

"I refuse to share my sleeping area with an insect that insists on climbing all over my face!"

"Maybe it finds you sexy."

"Many things do," was her response, "but in this instance I would rather it did not."

"I'll get rid of it in the morning, okay?"

"But where shall I sleep in the meantime?"

He gave her a pointed look that went from her face to where she was sitting on his bed, then back again.

"Oh," she said in a tiny voice. "I suppose that is acceptable."

He rolled his eyes. "Okay, then let's go to sleep."

She mashed the pillow a little in her arms. "Your bed is not very wide. Perhaps I should sleep on the floor."

That feeling of strain forming at the bridge of his nose? Was a headache coming on. "You want to sleep on the floor?" he repeated carefully.

"Well, no-"

He grabbed the pillow from her and shoved it under his head. "Just lie down on the damned bed."

"What if I hit your foot?" she hedged.

"You won't."

"What if I make you fall off?"

"You can sleep on the other side."

". . . I can't sleep on that side."

"Then you can sleep on the inside! I don't care!"

"But then I'll make you fall off."

"No, you won't!" He drew a deep breath. Let it out. "It's not like we've never shared the bed before."

She looked away. "That's different."

Okay, now _he_ was embarrassed. The hell? He just wanted to go to sleep. "I'm tired," he said. "You're probably tired too. Can you just lie down and try to sleep? It's not really that difficult – I've seen you sleep before."

She stuck out her tongue at him but starting crawling around him to get to the spot between him and the wall.

"Okay," he said. Finally, his brain said. "Now we can-" He cut off the last word with a sharp intake of air.

"Ichigo?"

". . ."

"Ichigo! Ichigo, I just bumped your foot, didn't I?" She lunged up off the bed. "I will go sleep on the cou-"

He snagged the back of her collar and pulled her back down against him, effectively trapping her with the arm draped around her waist. "Go to sleep."

"But-"

"Sleep. Now. Tired."

She bit her lower lip. "Good night, Ichigo."

He buried his nose against her hair and inhaled her scent. "Good night."

Five minutes later:

"Ichigo?"

"Yes?" he said wearily.

"I can't sleep."

It was going to be a long night.

 

Day two of the epic battle of Rukia vs. Firefly dawned bright and early. Ichigo woke up at something like the crack of dawn, feeling like he'd slept all of five minutes, to what sounded like Rukia having a heated argument with herself in his closet.

"What are you DOING?!"

Mumble mumble mumble.

"What?"

She stuck her head out. "Trying to catch the invader. Oh, by the way, your closet door is stuck on the track. I can't close it or open it any further."

"Terrific." For a moment he contemplated pulling the pillow over his head and hoping he'd wake up somewhere else. But the way this weekend was going that place would be Rukongai and Rukia would be there waiting to kick his ass for being stupid enough to accidentally smother himself.

He sighed and sat up, sleepy and rumpled and in no way ready to face the day. Rukia, on the other hand, was already dressed and primped and looked fresh as a daisy. It figured. "Okay, fine, I said I'd take care of it, didn't I? Get out."

She scampered out and he saw that she'd been trying to catch the firefly in a coffee mug. Wait, that was HIS coffee mug.

Deftly, he plucked it from her hand and put it to one side. "Don't you have a jar or something?"

"We don't have any empty ones in the kitchen."

"Okay, fine, I don't care. Just don't use my coffee mug!"

"You don't even _drink_ coffee," she pointed out.

"Maybe I should start."

"It'll stunt your growth."

Biting back a "look who's talking" he said instead, "I've stopped growing, thanks. And the point is I DRINK out of that thing and I don't want you catching bugs in it."

"Oh?" Rukia said a little nervously and he decided that he really _did not need to know_ but he sure as hell was going to bleach that mug before using it again. "Well, how are you going to catch it then?"

"Stand back," he announced, and launched into the spiel he had practiced to impress his sisters when he was eight and they were four, "and I will demonstrate my very secret one-handed firefly catching technique. It astounds and amazes and-" He hung his head. "Oh God, I sound like my old man, don't I?"

"It's okay," Rukia said carefully, "if the condition progresses any further, I will make sure they lock you up in solitary confinement and throw away the key so you will never again pose a danger to society!"

". . . have you been watching late-night American cop shows again?"

". . . no?"

After a moment he turned away and said, "Just wait while I catch it, okay?"

She watched him skeptically, or rather, she watched what she could see of him, which was mostly his rear end sticking out of the closet.

"Man, you really jammed this door in here! It barely even goes halfway," he said, rattling it.

"It is all the plot of the invader to make things difficult for us!"

"Where the hell IS your invader? I can't see a damned thing. Are you sure he didn't fly out already?"

She squeezed in next to him and looked around. After a moment, her finger stabbed in the direction of one dark corner. "Look, right there!"

"Where?"

"There, you idiot!" she said, pointing with more vigor at the blinking light and accidentally smacking him in the forehead in the process.

"Ow! Quit it!" He grabbed her hand and held it down. The firefly's illumination went out.

There was a long uncomfortable silence where both of them tried not to focus on his hand cupped over her fist. Then a soft light caught Rukia's eye and she hissed, "It's right there, Ichigo."

"I see it," he replied, trying to angle his body so he wouldn't hit his broken foot against the outside of the closet door as he made his lunge, but with Rukia taking up the rest of the space next to him, he was pretty mashed in there.

She tried to wriggle in further which just made everything worse as the closet door pressed into his rib cage. He shifted position by turning more to his left but she took the extra space to mean that she could crawl forward a few more inches in front of him and then her hair was in his mouth. He tried spitting it out as best he could and she looked up at him to figure out what the hell he was doing. "Ichigo, you're too loud!"

"Choking . . . on your hair-"

Making a face, she ran a hand over her hair to flatten it and tried to edge away, but only managed to hit the wall of the closet with her right elbow instead. Rubbing at it with her left hand, she turned her head to examine it and Ichigo again found himself with a mouth full of hair. He also couldn't see and groped around blindly. Feeling her shoulder he prodded her urgently. She turned towards him, startled, and in doing so her hair brushed past his mouth and eyes. He felt a moment's worth of relief at being able to breathe again.

Then he wasn't able to breathe after all as he looked into her eyes. Damn. He really _had_ been gone a long time.

She saw his expression and smirked. Then she yanked hard on the front of his shirt.

Their mouths met and parted awkwardly. She had to angle her head painfully and he had to lodge his left shoulder hard against the side of the door, but at the moment neither of them really cared.

This was nothing like that ill-fated kiss of yesterday, he thought dimly. This was everything that every clandestine kiss in a closet _aspired_ to be.

But just when things were getting good, a bright ball of light flared up and landed on Rukia's forehead. If Ichigo had ever needed to see what Rukia looked like freaking out from close-up – he didn't – he had just been presented with an excellent opportunity. The problem was, there wasn't room for all the arm flailing that seemed to entail, and as she smacked him, all of a sudden he felt the door give under his weight and slide the rest of the way open.

Shit, he thought.

They tumbled out, Ichigo letting out a pain-induced curse as his foot hit the ground. As there was a distinct lack of the sound of feet running over in alarm at the racket they were making, he deduced that both Yuzu and Karin were still sound asleep and possibly his father also. "Well," he muttered, as Rukia scrambled to her feet to run over and check on his foot, "at least the closet door isn't stuck anymore."

"Idiot," she said, looking up from his cast. She was flushed and disheveled and he thought that was almost something of which he could be proud if only he could be sure it was he and not a little glowing bug who had put her in such a state. "Does it hurt more? Should we get your father to look at it?"

He made a face. "No thanks. I'd rather have it fall off than have that maniac check it over again."

"Well, I wouldn't!" she responded tartly, pushing back and smoothing down her hair. "At least you are already going to the hospital today."

Yeah, and if there was anything more embarrassing than his old man at home, it was being SEEN with him in public. "I think your little molester wins this round," he said mildly to the air.

She scowled. "He only _thinks_ he's won!"

"At any rate," Ichigo pushed on doggedly, "can we wait until later to chase him out? Maybe he'll fly out on his own if we leave the window open?"

"Ha!" She prodded his side with her foot and he rolled into a sitting position with a groan. "You give him far too much credit! He will merely deceive us into thinking he is gone then make his attack upon my person!"

With a little difficulty he got to his feet, steadying himself with Rukia's shoulder, and hobbled over to the bed. "Why the hell would he want to do that?"

"Some people have no compunction about such things. _Especially_ in confined spaces." She gave him a pointed look as he sat down.

His temper rising, he protested heatedly, "Just a minute! Who do you think started-"

The words were caught and lost against the sudden insistent pressure of her warm mouth, the possessive look in her half-closed eyes, and the firm direction of her hands against his shoulders. He fell back and pulled her down on top of him.

"Me," she responded an eternity later, flushed with heat, her blouse half unbuttoned, his hands resting on her hips as she straddled him. "Because you're too slow to make the first move, idiot." And she proceeded to unbutton the rest and let the thin fabric slip off her shoulders and fall in a careless crumpled heap.

He said nothing, and she blushed, suddenly self-conscious. "Stop staring."

He let one hand trail from her hip up her back and undo the clasp of her bra with the ease born of an embarrassing amount of trial and error. He drew the strap over one shoulder and then the other and sent the bra to join the blouse with a flick of his wrist. Leaning up, he pressed his lips between her breasts. "Make me."

She pulled away until she was standing. His hands pushed down her skirt; she pushed his shirt up and over his head.

Huh, he thought, as she pressed a series of kisses across his collarbone. Aside from broken bones, this visit wasn't turning out too badly after all.

An instant later the broken bones made themselves known as Rukia's foot brushed against his own. "Ow, fuck!"

Seeing alarm widening her eyes, he rolled them over until he was on top and she couldn't get away. Screw broken bones! He kissed her roughly, hungrily, his hands running down the side of her body.

"Ichigo," she protested half-heartedly against his lips.

"Don't worry about me, I'll live."

Her lips quirked. "Idiot. More importantly, the monstrous size of your foot may prove . . . inconvenient?"

"Huh?" And then he thought about it. Big foot . . . what the hell could prove . . . and then Rukia's grabby little hands brought his attention to the fact that he was the only one still wearing clothes. Pants. Pants that weren't going to come off around his father's NIGHTTIME MASTERPIECE WILL KEEP YOU FROM FEELING UNDUE PAIN WHILE YOU SLEEP bandaging job from HELL. He swore. Loudly.

"Move," she said and he rolled off her. "Leave it to me." She ducked down and he felt her fingers delicately unraveling the bandages. He wanted to swear and rip them free and take her back into his arms, right now, this instant, because this was fucking _killing him_. He didn't have enough words in his vocabulary of sufficient strength to mentally direct his father's way.

Luckily, he thought not two minutes later, Rukia was speedy and apparently really deft at normally useless things like unwrapping a million layers of bandages. And she could re-bandage a foot the way a NORMAL person would after, too.

"Better?" she said, popping back up.

That question, he thought, deserved a different kind of answer. She laughed, a vibrant ripple of sound, as he pulled her against him and sought to prove _exactly_ how much better he was feeling.

He was doing a pretty good job too, until he glimpsed a small light from the corner of his eyes. "Let's call a truce with the firefly," he said suddenly, pulling his mouth away.

"Mmmm," she murmured breathlessly, her dark hair spread out against his mattress, "firefly? What firefly? Stop talking, you idiot."

Taking her advice, he stopped any remaining words with her mouth and let her convince him of the complete and utter inferiority of speech when compared to certain other forms of interaction.

_Didn't you know, Ichigo? Speaking is not communication._

 

"Ah," she said languidly a long time later, curled up against him, her head pillowed on his arm, and recited:

"No different, really -  
a summer firefly's  
visible burning  
and this body,  
transformed by love."

He stared up at the ceiling. "No, you'll burn a lot longer than a firefly."

A smile hovered around her lips. "Is that right?"

Delicately, he traced her name across the small of her back and felt her shiver under his fingertips. "Yeah."

A glowing light flew out from the closet and hovered against the far wall, blinking slowly off and on.

They watched it idly, both too spent to muster the strength to move even if they'd wanted.

"It's mocking us."

"It is not-"

The glowing point of light zipped over them so they could hear the sound of its tiny wings, then fled back into the recesses of the closet.

"Ichigo. It went back in."

". . . it's mocking us."

She buried her face against his shoulder and imprinted her laughter on his skin. "Right now, I don't really care."

Now, he traced his name over her shoulder blades and felt her shiver again. "Yeah," he whispered softly.

She raised her eyes, dark and faintly amused. "You just got your second wind, didn't you, you bastard?"

"Yep." His lips curved slightly and the challenge in his eyes belied the casual ease of his words. "Burn a little more for me, won't you?"

With a growl and a burst of the energy she'd thought she'd run out of, she pounced him.

Ow, he thought, his foot twinging in pain. But he wasn't about to complain. 

 

"It's definitely a fracture," Dr. Minamoto said, setting down the x-rays. "And I agree with your father's prognosis. Five weeks, maybe just four, ought to do it. We'll have someone outfit you with a cast you can walk in and some crutches. Don't worry," he said in response to Ichigo's expression, "you should only need them for a week or so."

"Okay," Ichigo said easily, his expression clearing. "That's fine." Crutches and casts – he didn't particularly care. For once, he was having a _damned_ fine day.

Which was over all too quickly as his father dropped him off at the train station, and told him tearfully to write, and be a good boy, and-

The world and the people moving nervously away from them at the train station never found out what came after because Ichigo gave his old man an uppercut to the jaw and said to Rukia while leaning on his crutches. "See you next week."

She nodded.

It was only two stations later that he remembered they'd never managed to get the firefly out of his closet.

 

To Ichigo's surprise when the train doors opened the following week he was immediately confronted with the sight of Rukia on the other side. Well, it was certainly a pleasant change from the previous week. He didn't really think he was up to much tree-climbing anyway.

Without so much as a 'Hi Ichigo' as he stepped onto the platform she launched into a statement filled with profound urgency. "We have to get Firefly-san out of the closet!"

"Wait, Firefly- _san_?"

She ignored the tenor of his question and dragged him along after her. "Yes! I have been doing research and Orihime-san says that fireflies do not live long."

"Well, that's true," Ichigo admitted. Possibly speaking with Inoue – no, Ishida-san, was he _ever_ going to get used to that? - explained why "the invader" was now "Firefly-san." It was a good thing the crutches were gone and he'd gotten a cast that made it easier to walk in since she was setting a pretty brisk pace.

"And that the patterns of a firefly's lights signal its feelings to its most beloved."

Definitely Orihime.

"In a manner of speaking . . ."

"While you were gone, Firefly-san and I reached an understanding."

He knew she was waiting for him to ask. Unable to find a way around it as the silence dragged on he finally came out with a slightly strangled-sounding, "Oh?"

"Yes," she said immediately. "I have calmly explained to him that I do not return his feelings for me and that he should seek out another love. He has accepted that I do not return his feelings and thus no longer seeks to touch my beautiful face, but he still refuses to leave your closet."

Ichigo wondered if diagrams had been part of her explanation.

"Firefly-san is going to die unfulfilled and alone," she said as compellingly as any j-drama lead – had Orihime been COACHING her? – and paused dramatically, "unless we release him into the wide world to find another love!"

"Right. Let's get right on that."

"I'm so happy you agree!"

Sarcasm, he thought, was wasted on Rukia. If she didn't like the meaning she'd take just the words.

"And how do you suggest we do that? Did you finally get a jar?"

"It does no good to _capture_ him," she said, sounding appalled. "We must _convince_ him."

"Of course, silly me."

"And coming up with how to do _that_ ," she said, "is something I leave to _you_."

"What? Why me?!"

She was all innocence as she said, "What else is all that learning you've been doing at school _for_?"

It was time to cut his losses. "All right, fine."

 

Operation Let's Get Firefly-san Out of the Closet and Into the Wide World In Search of Love (Or, as Ichigo put it, "Let's Catch the Bug") started as soon as they got back. Ichigo pulled a pad of paper out of his desk and told Rukia, "Write down his blinking patterns. Or draw them if you have to."

"And what will _you_ be doing?"

"Taking a na - errr, thinking really, really hard. And resting my leg on the bed."

She didn't look particularly convinced but went along with it anyway because of his injury.

When he woke up it was already dark out. Rukia was sitting against the bed and doodling. He asked to look at her notes and she handed them over.

While badly drawn as usual, they were, he was forced to concede, rife with details. Rukia took care to explain everything as though they were enemy attack plans. Shinigami Academy training must ingrain these things in one as a matter of course.

"This is his patented maneuver," she said pointing at a particular pattern which she had starred repeatedly. "He flies like so-" her hand moved through the air, "-then weaves back and forth. I call it the come hither waggle."

"Right," he said, flipping the writing pad closed and getting to his feet. "Now we're going outside."

"Outside?" she said confused. "But Firefly-san is still _inside_."

"Yes, but the "wide world" is outside, isn't it? Bring the notes." He rummaged around in his bag for something before leaving the room. Clutching the pad, she followed him down the stairs.

"Where are you going?" Karin called as Ichigo opened the front door.

"Out. Tell Yuzu we'll be back for dinner."

"Sure, sure."

They walked all the way to the river. The summer night was warm and Rukia thought it would be nice to go out more often while the weather was good.

Ichigo stopped and Rukia followed suit. "See 'em?" he pointed at a cluster of dancing lights by the water.

"There are so many," she exclaimed.

"Yeah, they like this spot. Anyway, we're not here to admire the view."

"We're not?"

"No, we're here for research. Still got that pad? Good. Okay, let's get closer."

"Can you manage the incline with your foot?"

"Yes!" he said, exasperated. "Go on."

She didn't need any more encouragement and ran into the midst of the glowing lights like an excited child. He paused a moment at the top of the bank to admire the view of the brief flashes lighting up her smiling face, before he went down to join her.

"Here," he said, fishing whatever it was he'd picked up at home out of his pocket.

"What is this?"

"A penlight. They were giving away free samples at school." He demonstrated by turning it on.

"Ooooh." She reached out her hands for it.

"Here." He dropped it into her palm. "You can stop being impressed now."

"But it is so small!"

He rolled his eyes and pulled out another one. "Okay, now we imitate your firefly and see if we can't find a female."

"You want to get Firefly-san a mail-order bride?"

"No!" What the-? Mail-order bride? "I want to figure out a female's patterns so we can lure your bedbug out of hiding."

"It seems dishonest to trick him."

"Maybe he's just been in the closet so damned long that he thinks there aren't any other fireflies left?" he countered.

"If you put it like that . . ."

The two of them turned on their lights and blinked them on and off, squinting in the dark to see Rukia's notes.

The results were immediate. After studying a few of the female fireflies' light patterns - Rukia scribbling them down on the pad illuminated by her penlight - and practicing them two or three times, they were ready to go home and put their new knowledge to practical use.

 

"Okay," Ichigo said, sitting down on his bed, "let's try this." He pulled his penlight out of his pocket and blinked at the closet.

Out Firefly-san came, winking furiously in display. Ichigo watched as he executed the patented come hither waggle, coming closer all the while. He was really a very forward insect, he decided, when it alighted on his hand right next to the penlight.

"It worked!" Rukia exclaimed. She bent over his hand. "Hello, Firefly-san."

Off and on again the light went in response.

"Your summer's almost over," she told the firefly seriously as he perched on Ichigo's finger. "You should hurry out and make up for lost time before you are the last firefly of the season."

He crawled around a little and Ichigo felt compelled to say, "Rukia, I don't really think-"

Then the firefly spread its wings and flew out the window into the dark night sky, glowing all the way.

"There," she said, satisfied.

He sat back on the bed and idly turned the light on and off. "Now what?"

"Do you miss him already, Ichigo?"

"Of course I don't _miss_ him."

She sighed. "I suppose you do not share the same connection we do. I feel a little sad. We have been "roomies" for so long."

"Okay, I tell you what. Let's go back down to the river after dinner and watch them."

"Really?" she said, brightening. "Very well."

The truth he grasped later, sitting on the riverbank as she whirled in a flurry of floating lights, was that the fireflies weren't what he had wanted to watch.

 

-Then Comes-

She was sitting on one of the train station benches when he walked up. Seeing him, she got to her feet and dusted herself off. The dress she was wearing was light blue and, grudgingly, he admired how well it suited her.

"Where's your bag?" she asked, looking around him. "You didn't leave it on the train, did you?"

"Of course not! It's at the apartment with the rest of my dorm stuff."

"Oh," she said quietly, falling into step beside him.

"It's a nice apartment," he said.

She made a noncommittal noise.

"Look, just because you haven't seen it yet-"

"I am sure it is fine. Exams went well?"

"I think so. Well, at any rate they're all over with now. I'll worry if I have to when grades come out."

"How is your foot?"

"Better," he said. "It doesn't even hurt anymore."

"You have a follow-up appointment with Dr. Minamoto tomorrow morning," she reminded him.

"Yeah, I know. What are you doing all the way out here anyway?"

"Orihime wanted to make adjustments. We finished early and since I was already out I thought I would come to meet you. Are you not gratified?"

"Extremely," he said dryly. "How've things been?"

"I am going crazy."

"I figured as much. You just needed to get out of the house, didn't you?"

"They are DRIVING ME INSANE."

"Just another week-"

"It is good that you are home so they can DRIVE _YOU_ INSANE instead."

Nothing, he thought, could be as bad as all that.

 

"What," Ichigo said, "is THAT?!"

"It followed me home," was Rukia's immediate response.

"IT DID NOT!"

"It most certainly did," she said stoutly.

Ichigo didn't know whether to wring her neck or go back outside and pretend this had never happened, they had never had this conversation, and he had most certainly not just come home, walked into the kitchen, and been confronted with the sight of a BABY CARRIAGE. WITH A BABY IN IT. And Yuzu making strange faces at the baby – BUT THAT WASN'T THE POINT. He didn't need his FAMILY to drive him crazy. He had RUKIA.

He settled for saying, "Explain," and feeling like that guy, Mickey? Likki? on that old black-and-white American TV show with the crazy wife – ~~Rukia~~ Rucy? Whatever. He sympathized, man, boy did he.

"I was walking down the big hill downtown this morning," Rukia said, tying on her apron, "you know, the steep one on Main Street, after buying some things for your welcome home dinner-" he grimaced, "-when all of a sudden this baby carriage came over the top of the hill all by itself and starting racing down the road-" she made the appropriate diving arm motions, "-so of course I leapt to the rescue before it hit traffic!"

"And then you went and looked for the parents, right?" he said slowly, afraid of the answer.

"Of course!" she replied, affronted. "But no one admitted to being the parent."

He felt a headache coming on. "So why didn't you take it to the police?"

"I _did_ ," she said, looking at him like he was an idiot, "and they said that they would file a report but were not a babysitting agency."

"And we are?"

"Brother," Yuzu said, turning to look up at him with soulful honey-brown eyes, "may we keep her?"

"NO WE MAY NOT!"

The baby scrunched up her face and started wailing.

"Aw, brother, you made her cry!"

Which was how Ichigo found himself pushing a baby carriage back and forth with his good foot.

Rukia and Yuzu seemed perfectly content to cook – "Isn't it too early for dinner?" "We're making HORS D'OEUVRES, Ichi-nii!" - and chat merrily while he did so, Yuzu turning around every so often to make a funny face at "Lucy" and squeal, "How adorable!"

Ichigo didn't quite agree as she'd already had to have her diaper changed twice, had spit at him, yanked on his hair, aimed a punch with her tiny fist at his nose, and seemed determined to wail her head off every time he so much as _looked_ at her. Yuzu and Karin had both been perfectly angelic as babies. Lucy was an unholy terror.

In fact, she was heralding the end of the world by screaming her head off again right now.

"Yuzu! She's not hungry, she doesn't need her diaper changed, and I DON'T KNOW WHAT'S WRONG! MAKE HER STOP!"

"Oh, she's probably just a little fussy. Try telling her a story or singing her a song."

Rukia made a choked noise of laughter.

"Fine," he ground out. "Once there was an evil bear named Aizen-"

"Ichigo, I do not think you should tell her that story."

"Mmm?" Yuzu said. "What story is that?"

"A scary, scary story," Rukia said.

"Oh, that's no good, Ichi-nii."

"Then let me borrow some of your Chappy toys to amuse her."

"Tell her Momotaro, or Journey to the West, or . . . A Midsummer's Night Dream."

"You just don't want me to give her your things to destroy." However, the concept of Shakespeare made him more amiable to her suggestion. "Okay, so once upon a time this boy named Lysander and this girl named Hermia were in love with each other . . ."

He had just gotten to the good part where Titania had fallen in love with the guy with a donkey's head – Rukia had "helpfully" been making snarky remarks the entire time – when he realized that Lucy had fallen asleep. "She fell asleep during Shakespeare, the ingrate!"

"Just your retelling of it," Rukia reassured him, absently.

Not mollified in the least, he didn’t deign to respond but looked over at Yuzu instead and asked, "Where're Karin and the old man?"

"Karin's watching Little League and I don't know where Dad is."

"Wait, why's Ka-" But before he could get any further the doorbell rang.

"Can you get that, Ichi-nii?" Yuzu asked sweetly. She was frying something. Rukia was up to her elbows in dough and seemed to be concentrating very hard on doing . . . something to it.

"Uh, yeah, sure."

"Take Lucy with you in case she wakes up!" Yuzu said cheerfully. "She seems to like you!"

Yeah, Ichigo thought. She liked taking bites out of him. And leave it to the cripple to push the baby carriage. He bet anything he was going to open the door and it was going to be Mizuiro and Keigo and then he was going to have to explain what the hell he was doing with a baby before Keigo ran off down the street wailing to the world that Ichigo was such a bad man having fathered a child without saying anything to him about it!

With that grim thought he opened the door. To be confronted with a sedately dressed woman in her mid-twenties. "Hello, Rumiko! Were you a good girl today?" she said and picked up the baby.

Ichigo calculated quickly. If she tried to make a break with the baby his foot, which felt fine, would probably hold up long enough for him to tackle her – the problem was how to keep the baby from getting hurt.

But then she said, "Oh, I'm sorry, you must be Ichigo," and held out her hand to him.

What the hell, he thought, shaking her hand out of habit.

"May I come inside?" she said with a smile and he nodded and watched as she stepped into his house, taking off her shoes by the door and bouncing the baby in her arms.

"I really must thank your father for watching Rumiko today," she said. "It's been a great help to me."

"Uh," Ichigo said.

"Who is it?" Yuzu asked, wiping her hands on a cloth as she came out of the kitchen, Rukia doused in flour following just behind her.

"Hello, I'm Rumiko's mother, Motomiya Sachiko."

"Um," Yuzu said.

"Er," Rukia said. Then: "May we have some identification?"

It turned out Sachiko had _pictures_ of Rumiko so all three of them felt immensely relieved (and immensely confused, but that was typical when dealing with Isshin, so they silently decided to sort out that mess later).

"I'm just visiting some friends in town who helped me to set up an interview for a job today, but they both work so I was completely at a loss as to what to do with little Rumiko here until your father walked over, saying he couldn't help hearing, and volunteered to watch her for me for the day. Both my friends have been by the clinic before so they knew him. I couldn't believe my luck!"

Neither could Ichigo and Rukia. Yuzu, on the other hand, was apparently too enchanted by the baby to pay _weird-ass circumstances_ much mind. Or maybe living with Isshin had already warped her brain to such a degree that she thought things like this were _normal._

"Would you like something to nibble on?!" she asked, excited by the opportunity to play hostess. "Ruki-nee and I were just experimenting!"

"You are _not_ going to feed something Rukia was 'experimenting' on to a perfect stranger!" Ichigo protested.

"Then you can come taste-test first, smartie," Yuzu said before Rukia could even start to bristle and pulled her brother into the kitchen.

"Your boyfriend?" Sachiko said to Rukia, smiling.

"Yes."

"You're very lucky to have him. He seems like a very nice boy."

"Yes," Rukia replied again uncertainly. There was a wistfulness to her words that struck her as decidedly odd. "But your husband must be _much_ nicer than Ichigo."

"Oh," she said with a laugh. "No, Rumiko's father and I aren't married. We never got that far."

"I-I'm sorry!"

"It happens," she said simply. "Men lose interest once all the mystery and excitement's gone. Summer's very brief, you know, and then it's Fall and what can you do? When push comes to shove, well, men lose their nerve. Just some men," she added hastily, seeing Rukia's stricken expression. "You don't have anything to worry about."

"Yes," Rukia said, regaining her customary composure. "Of course not."

Yuzu and Ichigo came out a moment later laden down with platters of hors d'oeuvres. The dubious-looking ones were Rukia's. "Please," Yuzu said, "try some!"

They had a very pleasant afternoon chatting with Sachiko, interspersed with the occasional moment when Rumiko would fling any hors d'oeuvres she got her grubby fingers on at Ichigo. Rukia's were hard and felt like gravel. Sachiko finally insisted that she and Rumiko had to take their leave despite Yuzu's invitation to stay for dinner, and while Yuzu sniffled Ichigo could feel nothing but blessed relief that the ordeal was finally over.

 

Or so he thought until ten minutes later when Isshin strolled into the house with a loud, "Daddy's home!" pushing a baby carriage in front of him. With, quite obviously, a baby in it.

Yuzu dropped the fork she was washing to the ground with a clatter. Rukia's eyes went as wide as the saucers they'd used for tea.

"Okay," Ichigo said calmly and rationally, feeling like his head was about to explode from the force of his internal screaming, "please explain WHO THE HELL IS THAT?!"

"This is Rumiko," Isshin said. "Ah, what a time I've had today! This little darling almost got abducted and I had to fend off a crazy woman and her purse."

"H . . . How did she almost get abducted?"

"Well, I volunteered to watch her for her mother - a nice woman, overheard her dire need for a babysitter as I was standing outside Nakamura's Hardware store. You know, the one at the top of Main Street? Turns out she's a friend of the Nakamuras. I was heading back when who did I bump into but Grandpa Jirobe? And that old man had the NERVE to imply that his granddaughters were getting cuter and cuter than other people's daughters everyday! As though Yuzu and Karin are not MUCH cuter!"

"Get to the point!"

"So I left Rumiko alone for _but an instant_ as Grandpa Jirobe and I compared pictures" (an instant being an hour and comparing pictures being shoving them at one another and having a screaming match, Ichigo thought from prior exposure to what a "typical conversation" between the two old farts amounted to) "but when I turned back around she was gone! But then, _aha_ , I sighted a dastardly woman pushing a baby carriage up the street!"

"Let me guess," Ichigo said slowly as Yuzu's eyes widened in horror, all the pieces of the puzzle slotting neatly together, "you decided to save her?"

"Exactly! But I had a time of it, let me tell you! The woman was adamant that Rumiko was _her_ child. Of course, I prevailed in the end! All this exertion has made me famished. Yuzu, what's for dinner?"

"So, basically . . . you accosted some lady and stole her baby."

"Retrieved an abducted child," Isshin said stiffly. "As if I would EVER-"

"Come on, old man," Ichigo said, cutting him off and grabbing his keys from off the counter. "I'll vouch for you down at the police station."

"The police station?" Isshin said blankly.

"That's right. The place where baby-snatchers go to 'fess up?"

Isshin was sputtering something incoherent about being framed, FRAMED as Ichigo dragged him outside, pushing the baby carriage. Karin, who had just come home, flattened herself against the door as they went by, a baseball in her hand, and said uncertainly, "Hey . . . what's going on?"

"Daddy's going to prison!" Yuzu wailed.

"DADDY IS NOT GOING TO PRISON! DADDY IS INNOCENT!"

Ichigo felt the return of his headache. Rukia was right. His family was going to drive him UP THE WALL.

 

It took four hours to straighten out everything down at the police station. And no one bothered to stop the mother as she whacked Isshin rather viciously with her purse upon being reunited with her child.

Ichigo called to let them know that, no, Isshin wasn't going to jail. But the police _were_ keeping him overnight as a "lesson." When Ichigo finally stepped back through his front door it was almost eleven.

"Dinner, Ichigo?" Rukia called from the living room where she, Karin, and Yuzu were watching some variety show that kept his sisters giggling.

"No thanks," he called back. He was too tired to eat. Stupid old man.

He was feeling a little better after a long hot bath, but the thing he was looking most forward to was crawling into bed and falling asleep for, preferably, a week.

A blinding light in his face was the first thing that met his eyes as he entered his room. When it faded, he looked up to see Rukia standing by the window. She blinked her light on and off at him.

He snatched up his own penlight from the top of his desk and kicked the door shut with his good foot suddenly a good deal less tired. Grinning, he advanced on her, blinking it back.

She shut her light off and placed it on the windowsill. "Ichigo. How long is Summer?"

And even though he didn't know what she wanted him to say, he knew she wasn't asking about the months. "It's different," he said, "every year."

"How long is our summer?"

"I don't know, it's just starting."

"And after it's over?"

What the hell? "We'll just move into Fall. It's not like it'll never come back. The seasons change, you know. But I like them all."

She started. "Ichi-"

"Hey," he said, moving his light through the air, "if the come hither waggle doesn't work, I really must be out of luck."

"The come hither waggle," she said deliberately, picking up her pen and turning it back on, "ALWAYS works."

"Then," he said with a smirk, "come hither."

"No," and she copied the motion with her light, " _you_ come hither."

He was about to argue that really, she should be the one coming to him for once, when something outside the window caught his attention and he turned off his light. "Rukia, look."

She turned and shut off her own light. "Oh," she breathed as two glowing fireflies danced around each other outside the window. "Good for you, Firefly-san!"

"How do you know it's him?"

"I know," Rukia said with conviction as he stepped behind her and put his arms around her. "See? The come hither waggle is a success."

". . . dammit." 

She laughed.

 

-Then Comes, Take Two-

He didn't see her when he came out of the hospital entrance, so when she suddenly popped out from the shadows he almost had a heart attack.

"You just missed Rumiko and her mother," she said. "They stopped by before leaving this morning."

"Did they?" Ichigo said, trying to soothe his sorely stressed heart. "Well, good luck to them."

Rukia didn't say anything and he let her be. Maybe she was actually going to miss the little terror? Maybe Yuzu was just being loudly upset about it at home and she didn't want to tell him for fear that he'd head off to Chad's or something for the day. Maybe it was something else entirely – like his father lying in wait in the bushes outside the house with a water gun. Great. Things to look forward to.

"I got my cast off," he offered.

She shot him a sharp look then looked him up and down before saying, "You did! That's a week early!"

He was about to say something about that being the first thing she should have noticed, dammit, but she was smiling now and he didn't really feel like ruining the mood. "Yeah, like I said, no big deal."

"Then can I step on it?"

"WHAT? NO! It _just_ healed!"

"Kidding! Kidding!" she said, holding her hands up. Peace. "I'm glad you're better."

She was, he thought uneasily, in a really weird mood. It was freaking him out. "You okay?"

She went up on her tiptoes and kissed him. "Congratulations."

"Erm," he said, looking around. There was no one there but they _were_ in _public_. What had gotten into her?

"It was out of order," Rukia mused quietly, coming back down on her feet.

"Huh? What was?"

"The song Inoue-san taught me," she said and he shot her a quizzical look.

"It's an American song." She flushed. "Never mind. It's not important."

"Okaaay," he said, and made a mental note to ask Inoue about it later.

A moment later he felt Rukia tugging on his sleeve.

He looked down. "Yeah?"

If anything she was even MORE red. "It's a week away. You're sure? You . . . you haven't lost your nerve?"

Once he might have panicked. Now, he was secure enough to tease. Ah, so this was why. "And you're asking me this NOW _why?"_

She scowled. "Ichigo!"

"Yeah," he said, bending down to take her hand in his and look her in the eyes, "I'm sure." He ran his thumb over her knuckles and the small, glittery band on her left hand.

"All right," she said, breathing in and softly exhaling. "I'm glad."

He stood, her hand still clasped in his and they started walking. "Were you worried I'd changed my mind? You _were_ nearly the death of me this past month."

"Shut up, idiot!"

"Don't worry, I've known since _day one_ what a hazard to my health you are."

She turned her head to stare off pointedly to her right and away from him. The buildings and trees went by one by one. "I am not speaking to you anymore."

"Then it'll be tough," he said, laughing and tugging her against him, "for you to say 'I Do.'" He leant over and pressed a quick kiss to the top of her head.

She glanced at him, failed at hiding her smile, and glanced away. "Very well, you are temporarily forgiven," she decreed magnanimously.

He grinned.

She elbowed him just enough to make him go "Oof" and bend over, and, as his grip on her hand loosened, laced her fingers through his own.


End file.
